Firsts
by firstadream
Summary: "I don't think I've ever seen you fall asleep in the precinct," he says, his voice soft. A series of one-shots, each chronicling a different first for Castle and Beckett as a couple.
1. Caught

The first time they get caught by his daughter, it's mortifying.

It happens while she's home for Thanksgiving. They've gotten used to being alone in the apartment. Well, Martha is there, but she mostly makes a big deal about giving them their privacy, always retiring to her room at a decent hour. She's even taken to announcing herself every morning before descending the stairs after she got an eyeful one day—Kate and her son, almost naked (definitely getting there), pressed against the stove.

So maybe they've become a little lax, but when it happens, when Alexis catches them—Kate wants to crawl inside herself and die.

She was on tentative, friendly footing with Alexis after a few care packages and a night when Kate showed up at the dorm during mid terms and forced the girl to take a break and have lunch with her. It wasn't as awkward as Kate had feared. The girl was easy to talk to (she was a Castle, after all) and Kate had let herself begin to hope she might actually have a real friendship with Alexis someday.

But now. Oh God. Now this.

Kate got back from the precinct late. Castle had left pretty early so he could spend time with Alexis and when Kate walked into the living room, fresh off a newly solved murder, and found Castle sitting on the couch reading a book, looking so handsome in his blue shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled up—

She got a little carried away.

Castle looked up from his book, caught sight of her in the foyer. She had no idea what her face looked like, but judging by the way his eyes darkened about three shades, she guessed it must've been all over her face—how much she wanted him.

He began to stand up, but she walked over and pushed him back against the couch, pressed a knee to either side of his thighs and sank down into his lap. He groaned softly, reached up to grip her waist, and his hands were so large and warm against her and he smelled so good, felt _so good_—

Yeah, she definitely got carried away.

Alexis finds them with her tongue down his throat, his shirt half-unbuttoned and her hands inside. His hands are gripping her ass, pressing her hips firmly into his. At least Kate still has her clothes on. That's something.

Alexis lets out a muffled yelp of surprise and spins around, sprinting back up the steps to her room. Kate watches her go, a little stunned, then turns back to Castle and groans at the sight of him—hair mussed, lips smeared with her lipstick.

She reaches out to wipe it off, before leaning forward and burying her face in his neck. She's scared to look at him. She hopes he isn't mad.

"Kate," he murmurs into her ear. His tone is light, laughing almost.

She lifts her head to look at him, feeling bewildered and so embarrassed she thinks she might die. Oh God. His daughter caught them. Caught them making out like teenagers on the couch. She was never, ever going to get over this. Ever.

"Kate, it's fine."

"_Castle_," she hisses, smacking him lightly in the chest. "That was your daughter. Your daughter caught us practically dry humping each other on the couch and all you can say is that it's _fine_?"

He shrugs, his hands beginning to roam again, down her back and lower and—

She swats him away, lifting herself off his lap and sinking onto the couch beside him. She leans back against the cushions, has to take a few deep breaths because the shock of getting interrupted is beginning to wear off and all that arousal is still left, simmering just underneath the surface. She lets out a long breath, presses her thighs together—

"_Christ, Kate_."

She opens her eyes to look at him. "What?"

"You are not allowed to do that if you expect me to stop touching you."

"What? I—" She watches the way his eyes flick down to her lap, his hand following and she suddenly understands. "Oh." She forces herself to relax. "Sorry."

He lets out a ragged sigh and pulls his hand back. Thank god. She probably wouldn't have been able to control herself if he started touching her again.

"Should I go talk to her?" she asks suddenly.

"Do you want to?"

She pauses. Thinks for a second. "I-Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Then go," he says, gesturing towards the stairs. "I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting."

She scowls at him. "Cruel man."

—

Alexis is lying on her bed when Kate knocks on the half-open door and hesitantly pokes her head inside. "Alexis?" she asks, smiling when the girl lifts her head from the book propped on her chest. "Hey. Can I come in?"

Alexis sits up. "Um. Sure. Yeah. Come in."

Kate steps inside and then stops, unsure of where to stand. "I'm, uh…I just wanted to talk to you after…_that_."

Alexis raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused, which actually helps. At least she's not mad. Doesn't seem to be traumatized either. "Don't worry about it, Kate."

Kate's pleased to hear her given name coming from the girl. She had to practically beg her to stop calling her Detective Beckett and she's happy to see that Alexis is sticking with it, even in this most awkward of situations.

"Are you…okay?" she asks lamely.

Alexis nods, smiling in earnest now. "I mean, it's not like I love catching my dad doing…that stuff. But you don't have to apologize or anything. It's fine. You guys are in love."

The way she says it, so matter of fact, it makes something catch in Kate's chest. It's true, but…Shit. They're doing this. They're actually doing this.

"Did he…say that?" she asks hesitantly, feeling a little foolish, a little like a seventh grader asking her best friend what her crush thinks of her, but if he actually said that to his daughter, it would—

It would make it real. He loves his daughter. More than anything in the world he loves her and he would only say that if it was true, if he wasn't planning on taking it back anytime soon.

Alexis pauses, tilting her head at Kate. "You really want to know?"

Kate has to fight against the smile that wants out. This girl's good. She knows what she's doing. It actually reminds her of something Lanie would ask her, which makes sense considering how many hours the two must spend together.

"Yeah, I do," she says honestly.

Alexis nods, accepting that. "Yeah, he said that. He's in love with you."

Kate swallows hard, feeling the truth of that settle and bloom in her chest. No wonder he's not concerned about Alexis catching them. He probably thinks it's the first of many awkward encounters to come.

Well. She hopes not. But it's a strange kind of wonderful for this to be so…okay. They're in love, the real kind, the kind where they're apart for an afternoon so when she sees him all she wants to do is kiss him, the kind where she forgets that his daughter might come downstairs and find them because all she wants is to feel him against her.

"I'm in love with him, too," she says, her voice soft.

Alexis grins. "I know."

Kate nods, smiling at the girl. "Good. Okay, well…I'll let you get back to your reading."

The girl nods. "I'll be up here for a while so if you guys are going to…"

"Yeah, don't, uh…Don't worry about that."

Alexis just shrugs and turns back to her book.

—

She finds him in the bedroom like he promised, lying on top of the covers reading. She hops onto the bed and straddles his stomach, grinning down at his surprised and happy face.

"Everything good?" he asks.

She grins, can't help it. He told his _daughter_. "Yup. All good."

He smiles, but his eyes narrow simultaneously in suspicion. "Why are you so…giddy?"

"Alexis told me what you told her."

"I tell Alexis a lot of things."

"True things?"

He nods, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Of course."

She flashes him another smile at that and leans down, brushing her lips along his jaw, her hands smoothing across his chest. "So," she murmurs conversationally, mouth ghosting across his. "You love me, huh?"

He stills beneath her, his eyes going a little wide. "She-she _told _you that I—"

She silences his stuttering with a kiss. "Already knew, Castle. Not a big secret."

"Well, yeah, but I had a plan."

"A plan?"

"Yeah, I wanted the next time I said it to be special. A romantic dinner, then a walk in the park, maybe a carriage ride—"

"Jeez, if telling me you love me is this elaborate I can't even imagine what your proposal is going to look like."

He gasps a little at that one, which was kind of her goal. He spins them on the bed, rolling on top of her so that she's tucked under his body, grinning up at him. "Kate Beckett. What has gotten into you? Since when are you so—"

"Not scared?"

His face softens immediately. He leans down and brushes a gentle kiss across her lips and then another until she parts for him, sliding her tongue against his, lazy and soft and searching. "You're not scared anymore," he murmurs into the kiss, his voice awestruck and reverent.

"I'm not," she confirms, curling her hand around the back of his neck, keeping him close. "I used to be scared. Petrified, actually. But now…"

She trails off, trying to find the words. "You were right there. You were right there all this time, just like you said, and I was fighting it, because your terrified me, but now…I just…"

"Love me?" he supplies.

She smiles. Nods. "Yes. I just love you. That's all there is. I'm in love with you."

He presses his mouth to hers again, kisses her deep and slow. "I love you, too," he whispers. Not exactly a moonlit carriage ride, but it's _them_, and that's even better—all he ever wanted, really. All he ever hoped for.

—

_So I think I'm going to turn this into a collection of oneshots, each one about a different first for Castle and Beckett as a couple. This one would be the first time Alexis catches them. If you guys have any suggestions for more firsts, please let me know!_


	2. Almost

_I was blown away by the response to this story! Thank you so much for all your amazing suggestions. I'm definitely planning on using a few of them._

—

They've been together nearly a year the first time she almost dies in front of him. Well. The first time after becoming _them_. He thought nothing could be worse than that day in the cemetery, an end before they even got to start, but he was wrong. This is worse. Unbearable. Because now he has her, knows how beautiful it is when they let themselves be in love with each other. If he lost her now he'd be haunted for all the rest of his days.

The bullet comes so close. It nicks her Kevlar vest, fraying the edge. He's breathless and stunned and frozen in place, watching dumbly as she sprints after the shooter like nothing just happened, like she didn't almost get shot. Esposito is the one to take down the perp. He's rough with him, rougher than usual, and Castle has to assume it has something to do with the fact that he shot at Beckett.

He's grateful, but he really wishes Esposito would just shoot the guy. If he had a gun, Castle's not sure he _wouldn't_ kill him.

Esposito walks past him, the guy shoved out in front of him, his cuffs so tight that he winces with every jostling movement. Kate is right behind them and she pauses beside Castle, leveling him with an all-too-knowing look.

He's suddenly so glad they told everyone. If they were still keeping their relationship a secret, he wouldn't be able to touch her. He'd have to pretend that everything was okay and get into the car beside her and _wait_ and it would be awful. But he doesn't have to do that now, they're not fooling anybody, so he grabs her and pulls her against him.

She relaxes into him and he just stands there holding her, feeling the way her chest rises and falls against his with every breath, the steady thud of her heart against his sternum. He doesn't say anything for a long time and she's patient, waits until the hitch in his breath is gone, until his heartbeat smoothes out, before pulling back and meeting his eye.

"I'm fine," she says, but her eyes are dark. He can tell she's rattled too. She's just better at hiding it, has the training to compartmentalize it and not let it break her apart.

"I know," he breathes, but even as he says he drags her close again, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his lips feathering along the edge of her hairline to the smooth skin at her temple.

He wants to kiss her, really kiss her, wants to taste her, drink from her until he can take a full breath again, but he knows he can't. Not here in an alleyway with Ryan and Esposito waiting in their car, a criminal cuffed in the back seat.

"We should go," she says softly and he nods.

She grabs his hand as she passes and holds on, doesn't let go until they reach the car.

—

He doesn't sleep much that night. Neither does she.

They stay awake, wrapped in each other's arms, all tangled up so that he can feel the way she moves, the play of muscle beneath his fingertips, the blood that warms her skin, the quirk of her lips when she kisses him.

"Sometimes I hate your job," he murmurs.

She hums in understanding and he can feel the sound vibrating in her chest. "I'm okay," she says, knowing that no matter how many times she says it, it'll never really be enough.

"What if one day you're not?" he says. "What if I lose you? I'll be wrecked. And what if we have kids one day, Kate? They'll—"

"They'll always have their mother," she says, a promise she can't really make, but it makes him feel better anyway.

"I won't let them end up like me, Castle. I won't."

She sounds fierce and so determined, but there's hurt there too, a shade of grief. He kisses her softly, trying to ease the pain lurking in her eyes. "Okay," he whispers. "Okay."

"We'll grow old together," she murmurs. "Watch our kids grow up."

"And our grandkids," he adds, grinning.

She grins back, a sudden joy in her eyes that wasn't there a moment ago. It makes her happy to think about their future together and it makes him happy to see how happy she is.

"So you want to have little Castle babies, huh?" he says, pressing his lips to the line of her jaw.

She huffs at him. "Shut up."

"Mmm, no," he whispers. "I like talking about this."

"I'm sure you do."

"I can't wait to have a baby with you, Kate." He knows the admission might be a little too much, but he can't help himself, because when she almost got shot today it wasn't just their past that flashed behind his eyes, it was their future too, all the things they would miss if he lost her now.

She's smiling at him though, her body arched into his, pressed close. She's beautiful in the darkness of his bedroom with her tousled hair and eyes the color of the earth—green and brown with sparks of gold.

"I was a little late last month," she tells him suddenly.

He pulls back, regards her carefully. "What? Are you serious?"

She smiles, kisses the frown from his lips. "Just a couple days."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Two days is nothing, Castle. It happens sometimes. Not a big deal."

"You should've told me," he insists, sounding a little petulant, but he doesn't care. He wants to know these things. Even if it's just two days, even if she thinks it's not a big deal.

"Fine. You're right," she says, smiling a little, clearly just appeasing him. "But that's not the point, Castle. The point is, when I realized I was late, I wasn't scared."

A smile blooms across his face slowly as he realizes what she's telling him. "You would've been happy?"

She nods, mouth pursed in a way that he knows means she's happy. Pleased. "Yeah. I would've been. I mean…if I had my way I'd wait a couple more years, but if it took us by surprise, if it happened tomorrow, I wouldn't mind."

"That might be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," he says. He presses a light kiss to her lips, feels the shape of her smile against his.

"You're so sappy," she murmurs.

"You love it."

She grins. "Maybe a little."

"Someday, Kate Beckett, I will knock you up and it will be awesome."

She pulls away with an indignant scowl, smacks his chest. "Knock me up? Really, Castle?"

"Impregnate?"

"Oh, God," she groans. "Stop talking."

"What? The verbs are failing me here."

"And you call yourself a writer."

"Okay. Let me think. Alright. Here's one. I will pla—"

She presses a hand over his mouth, effectively cutting him off. "If you say 'plant your seed in my womb,' I'm leaving."

"Okay," he says. "I won't say it."

She sighs, rolling her eyes a little bit. "You're an idiot," she says. "And I love you."

He smiles, leans in for a kiss. "Love you, too, future mother of my children."

"Hm. I like that one."

—

_Review please!_


	3. Fight

_This "first" was inspired by prompts from missy52061 and ayraDG. It's their first big fight and the first time they discuss the dark period of "The Limey" combined._

—

It's three in the afternoon and he can tell she needs a break.

The case they're working is not going their way, hasn't been from the start. Dead trails, leads that go nowhere, suspects with bomb-proof alibis. He can tell it's driving her crazy. She's turning her brain inside out to connect the loose ends, to make sense of the timeline and it's taking its toll.

They've been fighting on and off all week. She's so on edge that she's not sleeping and it's making her cranky. He can't do anything right. The coffee is too hot, he ordered the wrong type of lo mien, the bed's made incorrectly, his crazy theories are distracting her and she does _not_ need anymore distractions right now.

He tries not to let it get to him. He knows she just needs an outlet for her frustration and since he's usually the one sitting next to her, that outlet often ends up being him. He's fine with it. He knows she's not doing it to be mean. Plus, the quickies in the supply closet that she claims help clear her mind totally make up for the little spats.

He watches as she scribbles something on the board, scowling deeply, pressing so hard that the marker is reduced down to a useless nub. She sighs and flings it in the general direction of the trashcan, missing by about a yard.

He stands to pick it up, then walks over to where she's standing. "How about a coffee break?" he suggests.

She shakes her head. "No, I don't have time."

"Make time," he says, his voice just firm enough that it catches her attention, pulls her gaze away from the murder board.

She looks up at him, frowning a little, but he can tell she actually wants to go. "Fine. But we need to be fast. No more than twenty minutes."

"Sounds good," he agrees, already reaching for her coat and helping her into it. "We can just walk down to the Starbucks at the corner. They're usually pretty fast."

He follows her onto the elevator, taking in the pinched look on her face, the shadows under her eyes. "You need to sleep," he blurts out without really thinking about it.

She rolls her eyes, sighing loudly. "Don't patronize me, Castle."

"Patronize?" he says. "I'm just worried because you look really tired."

"Yeah, well you didn't seem too concerned about my REM cycles last night when you went in for round four."

He presses his lips together, refraining from pointing out the fact that _she _was the one who initiated round four. As well as round one, two, and three.

The doors ding open on the lobby and he follows her off the lift. He has to jog to keep up as she speed walks across the lobby and out onto the sidewalk.

"Beckett," he calls. "Wait up."

"Try to keep up, Castle," she snaps.

He sighs. He cannot _wait_ for this case from hell to be over so that he can get his girlfriend back. "So," he says after a beat, puffing a little as she keeps up their breakneck down the sidewalk. "I was thinking of making Italian tonight."

"I might not be able to make it to the loft for dinner."

"I could make it at your place," he offers.

She glances at him and he's relieved to see the ghost of a smile stirring in her eyes. "Um, sure," she says, softening a little. "That's really sweet."

He beams. "No problem."

They reach the Starbucks and have to pause to let a group of people exit. He takes a moment to look at her, take in the angles and planes of her face. Even running on practically zero sleep, she's still beautiful. Gorgeous, actually, in the soft autumn light.

She glances over, sees him watching and smiles. He smiles, too, so relieved to see a crack in her frazzled, no-nonsense exterior. He reaches for her hand and slips his fingers through hers. She squeezes back.

They're just about to head inside when someone calls out his name. He turns on the sidewalk just in time to see a woman bustle towards him and launch herself into his arms.

"Ricky!" she squeals, bouncing up to smack a kiss to his cheek.

He pulls back to see her face and practically chokes. "J-Jacinda," he says.

He glances over at Kate, cringing a little. She looks stunned. She pulls her hand from his grasp.

"Oh, my God!" Jacinda cries. "I can't believe I ran into you. Why didn't you answer my calls? I've been trying to reach you ever since I landed in JFK!"

"I, um…I was really busy."

He's vaguely aware of Kate's retreating form as she backs away from him and Jacinda. He wants to reach out for her, make her stay, but Jacinda has his bicep in a vice grip so he can only crane his neck and watch her go as she rounds the corner.

"Are you free for dinner? Oh, Ricky, please say yes!"

Castle turns back to the blonde woman that he used shamelessly to get back at Kate, flaunting her at crime scenes and the precinct to soothe his broken heart. He almost feels sorry, except he's pretty sure Jacinda doesn't really mind being used. She implied as much on the handful of dates they went on.

"Look, Jacinda, I really can't."

Her face falls for a brief moment before perking up again. "Maybe next time," she says and he nods even though he knows that's never going to happen.

She releases her grip on his arm and he immediately turns away, heading in the direction he saw Kate disappear to.

He finds her leaning up against the side of the Starbucks, her back pressed to the brick wall, her eyes closed. He approaches her slowly, not really knowing what to expect.

"Kate?" he says hesitantly.

Her eyes open slowly and focus on him. "What?" she says flatly.

"Are you…okay?"

"You didn't tell me she called."

"It doesn't matter. I wasn't going to have dinner with her."

"Really?"

He recoils a little at the question. She doesn't really think that he would—

"No, Kate," he says. "Of course not."

She lets out a long breath and looks away from him, focusing on a point in the distance. "Do you know what it was like for me last spring, having to watch you with that woman?"

"I know, Kate, I'm—"

"No, Castle, you don't." She turns to face him, her eyes hard. "I was so _confused_. I didn't know what I'd done wrong. One minute you were there, with me, _waiting for_ _me_, and then you were gone. Going on lunch dates. Handing over the keys to your Ferrari to a woman you met on a flight to Vegas."

"I was hurt," he says simply, going for the truth. He can tell she's not in the mood for bullshit and neither is he. They've never really talked about this before and he can see now that it's necessary. They need to muddle through the hurt, dwell on it a little, before they can ever truly get past it.

"Why didn't you just _talk_ to me?" she asks and there's so much pain in her eyes that it makes his chest ache. He realizes, suddenly, how close he came to losing her, to breaking both their hearts beyond repair.

"I thought you didn't love me. I was mad. I acted selfishly."

"Damn right you did," she says, stepping towards him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Don't you think I deserved the chance to explain myself? After all those years didn't I at least deserve that?"

"Yes," he breathes, desperate now, desperate for her to understand, to make it better. "Yes, you did. But…you lied to me. You remembered what I told you that day in the cemetery and you didn't say anything."

"I wasn't ready to deal with yet, but that doesn't mean I didn't feel the same way. It never meant that. I got _shot_, Castle. And just because I stopped bleeding doesn't mean I was healed."

"I know, I know," he murmurs, feeling so ashamed he can hardly stand to be in his own skin.

"I loved you so much," she breathes, closing her eyes against the tears. "I loved you so much and you left, you left me—"

"No, never," he promises.

He moves towards her and she lifts her hands as if to fend him off, but he pushes past them, crowds her against the wall, trapping her between the brick and the hard line of his body. "I'm sorry," he breathes, kissing her closed eyes, tasting the tears. "I'm so sorry."

She nods, arches into him, her hands pressed to his chest. He kisses her cheek again and she turns her head to the side to catch his mouth in a shallow kiss.

He groans softly, sinking into it, parting his lips wide, sliding his tongue against hers. She lifts into it, clutches at him. He can feel the wild beat of her heart against his sternum, her stuttering breath, and he realizes, suddenly, that she's still crying, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

He breaks away to brush his lips along her jaw, tasting the salt of her tears. She drags in a gasping breath, wraps her arms around his neck, presses her cheek to his cheek. "Don't leave me," she breathes into his ear, her voice cracked, completely undone.

"I won't," he says. "I promise I won't."

She nods and sinks into his body, all of her exhaustion and frustration suddenly catching up to her. She presses her face into his neck, inhales the deeply comforting scent of his cologne. "I want to go home," she murmurs.

"Okay," he says immediately.

"You'll call Gates?"

"I'll say you're sick."

She nods, lets out a shuddering, relieved breath. "Okay. Good."

He holds her for a minute longer, reveling in her steady breathes, the way she relaxes into him, lets him hold her up.

She trusts him. Loves him. Even after everything. "I love you, Kate," he tells her, hugging her tightly.

"I love you, too," she says. "Always."


	4. Positive

_This "first" takes place a couple years in the future and was inspired by a prompt from Christy811._

—

He follows her off the elevator and over to her desk, where Esposito is waiting. He's holding a file that he hands off to her when she gets close enough. "That's the still from the security footage. She's all set up in interrogation one."

Kate gives him a quick nod, flipping open the file to glance at the slightly grainy image. "Thanks, Espo."

"No problem, boss."

She reaches for her coffee cup and lifts it to her mouth, but pauses before taking a sip, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"You okay?" Castle asks.

She nods, pursing her lips in distaste. "Yeah. I'm just…ugh. I feel a little queasy suddenly."

"You haven't gotten much sleep these past few days. Probably just catching up with you," he says.

She nods absentmindedly, already distracted, already moving on to the next step.

They've been slammed with cases the past couple weeks. None of them are terribly mind-bending or time-consuming, but the sheer quantity has everyone working double time. Neither of them has gotten a full night's sleep in over a week.

"Alright," she says, refocusing her attention to the file in her hand. "You ready?"

He nods and she returns her mug to her desk, gathers the file to her chest, leads the way into the interrogation room.

The suspect is a young woman with blonde hair and wide, blue eyes lined heavily with eyeliner and a thick coat of mascara. She looks bewildered. She watches Kate and Castle file into the room and sit down across from her, mindlessly rolling a huge wad of gum around in her mouth, tapping her long, ornately painted fingernails on the tabletop.

"Afternoon, Ms. Perkins," Kate greets her coolly, folding her hands in front of her, leveling the woman with her detective stare.

"You can call me Suzy," the woman replies, her voice lilting with a heavy twang straight out of Brooklyn.

"Alright, Suzy," Kate continues. "Can you tell me what you were doing in the Muddy Cup earlier today?"

"The Muddy Cup?" Suzy repeats. "Oh, right. The coffee place. Yeah, I go there to get my caffeine fix every mornin'. Non-fat caramel macchiato with an extra pump of caramel and just a dash of cream. Sometimes I have 'em put some whipped cream on the top. Just for, ya know, funzies and stuff."

"Funzies," Castle murmurs, working hard not to smile. "Right."

Suzy nods and lifts a hand to point at him, the bracelets on her wrist jangling. "See? He gets it. So yeah. That's what I was doin' there."

Kate nods. She has that look about her that Castle loves—cool, confident, entirely unimpressed, her face a mask of professionalism, completely tuned in, focused. "Do you know this man?" she asks Suzy, pushing a picture of the murder victim across the table.

Suzy picks it up, studies it, her head tilted to the side. She smacks her gum a couple times, drops the picture and then shrugs. "Not sure. Just looks like a guy."

"Well," Kate says, her tone clipped. "He was murdered this morning. In the coffee shop you were in obtaining your caffeine fix." She pauses, pulls out another picture and shows it to Suzy. "You were also seen fleeing the seen of the crime just moments after he was shot."

"Shot?" Suzy squeaks. "Oh my God."

Castle watches, thoroughly amused by all the theatrics, as Suzy huffs a little, lifting her hand to fan herself. "Holy crap. I had no idea. I didn't even hear a gun or nothin'."

She stills suddenly and Castle can practically see the gears turning in her head, putting all the pieces together. She presses her palms to the table, leans towards Kate a little. "Wait," she says. "I didn't do nothin'. I didn't even _see_ nothin'."

Kate hums a little. "I see."

"Look," Suzy says emphatically. "I was freaking out. I was, like, buggin', ya know?"

"Why were you _buggin'_?" Castle says, repeating the colorful phrasing just because he can't resist.

"Because of these!"

Suzy reaches for her purse and pulls out a handful of tampons, tossing them on the table. Kate lifts an eyebrow. "Tampons? Really? That's you're alibi?"

"Yes!" Suzy cries. "Look, lady. You gotta listen. I was in there, waiting for my macchiato, when I reached into my purse to get some cash and then I see these tampons and I'm like, _holy shit_, 'cause I realized I hadn't got my period this month, so I booked it outta there to get one of those pee sticks, ya know? To see if I was knocked up or not."

Castle sits there calmly, waiting for Kate to swoop in again. When she doesn't, he turns towards her, finds her staring past Suzy at the wall behind her, a faraway look in her eye. She's tapping the table, one finger at a time, her mouth moving like she's counting to herself.

"Um, Beckett?" he asks, curious and also a little worried. If this is a tactic, he's never seen it before. "Everything good?"

She stops tapping, goes still. "Oh, my God," she breathes, her face frozen.

"Kate, are you okay?" he asks, forgetting that they're in an interrogation room. He leans towards her, lays a hand on her arm. She startles slightly at the touch, looks down at his fingers curled lightly around her wrist, turns brimming eyes to his face.

"Kate," he says, alarmed now. "Kate, talk to me."

She draws in a gasping breath, lets out a sound that's half sob, half laugh. "Castle, I'm—"

"What?"

She swallows. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" he breathes.

He stares at her, dumbfounded, his world zeroing in on her face, her shining green eyes, her trembling smile. He watches as she presses a hand to her still-flat stomach. She's pregnant. Kate is pregnant.

"_Kate_," he whispers and his voice cracks around that one syllable.

"Um, can I go or what?"

Castle jumps at the question, looks over to find Suzy regarding them with a bored look on her face. "I-uh…We…"

He stutters to a halt. He's completely incoherent. He can't find words beyond the ones she just gave him. Pregnant. She's pregnant.

The door swings open and Esposito and Ryan appear. "We got it from here," Esposito says.

Kate stands immediately, reaching for Castle's hand, dragging him on stumbling feet towards the door. She pauses in the doorway to share a grin with the boys before leading the way out of the interrogation room and into observation.

As soon as the door is shut, he grabs her, backs her up until she's pressed against the wall. "Holy crap," he says. "Is this really happening?"

"Yeah, yes." She sighs and drops her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. "I can't believe I didn't realize sooner."

"You were busy," he says.

"I'm two and a half weeks late, Castle. That's _really_ late."

"You were sleep deprived. Frazzled. Catching murderers."

"I guess you're right," she hedges, but he can tell it actually bothers her—the fact that she didn't catch on sooner. She likes being in control, never letting anything slip through the cracks. She's going to have to get over that one if she's going to survive motherhood.

He leans in and presses a firm kiss to her lips, the most sure-fire way he can think of to get her mind off of things. "I love you," he says, shifting his lips to her cheek. "I love you so much."

She hums in agreement or encouragement or both, her fingers curling around his neck, playing with the short hairs at his nape. "We shouldn't get carried away," she murmurs.

"I want to get carried away," he says.

He presses his palm to her hip, his thumb brushing under her shirt to the bare skin of her stomach. She gasps and arcs against him, her mouth opening against his, her tongue delving deep, sliding against his, across the roof of his mouth.

"I-I don't mean…like that," she manages to get out, moaning softly when he wedges a thigh between her legs. "I mean, I'm…I might not be pregnant."

He stills at that. "What?" he says.

She smiles at the disappointment on his face, draws him close enough to kiss. "I haven't taken a test or anything, Castle. We should make sure."

"But I'm—" He swallows, realizes he's dangerously close to whining. "But I'm so excited."

She grins, kisses him again, her body shifting in the cove of his arms, her hips bumping into his. "I know."

"Two and a half weeks, right?" he says. She nods. "And that's really late right?" She nods again and he relaxes a little, draws her close. "I really want to have a baby with you," he breathes feathering kisses along the line of her jaw, the soft spot behind her ear.

"Me too," she says, her voice soft. "Me too."

—

They stand in the bathroom beside each other, staring at the tests lined up on the edge of the sink. "Six tests," he breathes.

"All positive."

She turns towards him and sinks into his arms, the relief and the happiness and the hugeness of it all shuddering through her, making her breathless. "I'm really pregnant."

He laughs softly, presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "Yes, you are."

She closes her eyes, squeezing him a little tighter. "Castle, I—"

She stops, not really knowing what she wanted to say, but the words are clogged in her throat anyway. She closes her eyes, feeling it all rise up inside her, cracking her open. She's going to be a mother. Going to have a baby. With Castle.

She can feel herself melting apart with it, becoming sappy and sentimental and she kinda hates it, but she also loves too, mostly loves it, actually, because how can she not feel like all her dreams are coming true?

She lifts her head from his chest to look at him and she can see it there in his eyes, too—the happiness so wide and infinite that he's practically vibrating with it. She wants to say something, to tell him everything that she's feeling, but she doesn't know how, doesn't know the right words to—

"I love you," he murmurs.

Oh. Right. There they are.

She grins. "I love you, too."

—

_So I just realized that all these oneshots end with I-love-you moments, which, you know, isn't really a bad thing I guess, but I'll try to mix it up a little next time. Lol. _


	5. Shopping

_First time Castle and Beckett go shopping together. Inspired by a prompt from AllThingsCastle. _

—

"Oh, we definitely need these," Castle declares, grabbing a bag of marshmallows and tossing them into the cart that Kate's pushing down the aisle.

He flashes a grin at her over his shoulder, then darts ahead, honing in on a huge display of candy. "Castle, we do not need all that," she says, watching as he piles jumbo bags of Skittles, Hershey's Kisses, and Starbursts into his arms.

He gives her a look. "It's Halloween in two weeks, Kate. Don't you want to give candy to all the children?"

She rolls her eyes. "What are the chances of any of this making it to Halloween?"

He grins. "Slim to none. But it's the thought that counts." He dumps the candy into the cart, grabs one more bag of Reese's cups, then saunters ahead around the corner.

She knew shopping with him would be like this. A kid on a sugar rush. She feels like a mom herding a two-year-old, making sure he doesn't knock down the displays and grab too much candy.

And now they're headed to the cereal aisle. She groans quietly, leaning her forearms against the cart handle as she rolls it forward. It was going to be a long afternoon.

She finds him in the middle of the aisle, holding Lucky Charms in one hand and Fruit Loops in the other. "So many choices," he mutters when she reaches him.

"Just get both," she suggests. Ugh. Did that seriously just come out of her mouth?

He grins at her. "You're so right. This is America. Why settle for one awesome cereal when you can have two?"

Kate lets out a long breath. She needs to focus. Steer them towards the vegetable aisle so she can try and get at least _one_ mildly healthy thing into their cart. She probably couldn't talk him into broccoli or green beans or anything like that, but maybe carrots. She'd even settle for candied apples at this point. At least he'd be getting fiber.

The trick is getting his attention. And the only thing he loves more than sugary cereals—well, okay, there's a lot of things actually—but one of them is her and she can definitely use that to her advantage.

"Hey, Castle," she calls out, interrupting his perusal of the various types of cheerios. He seemed to be reaching for the frosted ones when she interrupted. Perfect timing.

He turns to her, eyebrows lifted in question. She abandons the cart and walks over to him, slides her hands up his chest, tracing the lapels of his sport coat before hooking her fingers around his neck.

He watches her, stunned and completely mesmerized, as she leans in, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth. "Uh, Kate? Wh-what are you—"

She silences him with a kiss, lifting into his body. His hands reach out to encircle her waist, an automatic response to keep her pressed against his body. He has no idea where this came from, but he's definitely not complaining. If she wants to make out in the cereal aisle then he's more than happy to—

"How about we take this…" He's already nodding. He'll go anywhere. Anywhere she wants as long as she keeps kissing him like this. "…to the _vegetable aisle?_"

He pulls back. Blinks at her. Vegetable aisle?

She grins at him, all teeth and tongue and pink cheeks and _oh _she thinks she is _so smart_. Well. Two can play at this game.

He pushes her back against the shelves, rattling the cheerios a little. She responds immediately, arching against him, gasping his name, her tongue hot and wet in his mouth and _shit_ this getting out of control fast and they are in the middle of Price Chopper. There are probably kids around and they can't be—

He momentarily loses his train of thought when she hooks her leg around the back of his knee, hips rising to meet his, mind going fuzzy at the way she's moaning into his mouth, too sexy for her own good.

But no. Not here.

He pulls away with her, can't help but grin when she growls a little in disapproval. "Thought you wanted vegetables," he says.

"There are other ways to stay healthy," she shoots back, giving him a predatory look that is seriously doing it for him, making him want to push her back against the shelves and rattle a few cereal boxes loose.

"We can work out later," he says.

She scowls at him, looking adorable in all her indignation. He loves it when she gets pouty because she wants sex. Makes him feel pretty awesome. Like he's just _that good_.

"Don't get cocky," she says, completely reading his mind. Typical.

"Too late. You want me. It's awesome."

She rolls her eyes, shoves on him a little so she can move around him towards the cart. "_I'm _going to get kale," she announces. "Lots and lots of kale. So much kale that there won't be any room left in the fridge for your chocolate milk."

He gasps. "You wouldn't."

"Watch me, _stud._"

And with that she spins on her heal and struts down the aisle, taking the cart and his fruit loops with her.

—

_Sorry for the shorter length of this one. Pretty busy day. I also had to set aside some time for some hardcore fangirling over that last episode. My favorite part? Kate reciting fanfiction about herself as she mounts Castle. Priceless. Andrew Marlowe=a god._


	6. Drunk

_Sorry for the delay! No one suggested this "first", but I thought it would be fun: the first time Castle sees Kate drunk. I actually hope this happens on the show at some point. I can't even imagine how hysterical that would be. And hopefully adorable, too. _

—

Castle walks into the bar and scans the crowded room for Kate. He sees Lanie first, the one who actually texted him. She's standing next to the bar, her hands on the shoulders of a clearly inebriated woman who's tilting precariously on her stool.

He stops suddenly, tilts his head to the side. He's crazy, he must be, because if he didn't know any better he'd say that woman was—

"Castle!"

Kate. Drunk Kate. So he was right after all. Huh.

He watches as she practically falls off her stool and lurches in his direction. Lanie reaches out to stop her and only succeeds in snagging her jacket. Kate twists her way out of it and continues towards him, tipping a little on her high heels.

She opens her arms wide when she gets close enough, launches herself into his arms. He catches her with a huff of breath, chuckling softly.

"Hey," he greets her. "How are you?"

She leans away, tilting her head back to look at his face. "I'm _good_," she says, drawing out the vowel sound, her words a little slurred. "How are _you?_" she asks, punctuating the question with a poke to his chest.

"I'm good," he says, working not to grin too widely.

She hums in agreement, lists towards him. He thinks she's going to kiss him, but at the last second she loses her balance and tilts to the side, her lips landing on his neck instead. He laughs again but it quickly trails off into a rumbling groan when her mouth opens against his skin, sucking gently.

"Mmm, you're sexy," she murmurs, lifting her lips to the underside of his jaw, nipping softly, her hands slipping under his jacket.

He has to close his eyes, remind himself they're in a bar, a public place. "Kate, babe," he says softly, gripping her shoulders gently and holding her away. "You're drunk."

She grins. "Maybe."

"Yes. You are," he says, more for his benefit than hers, because _shit_ she is hot, all tousled hair and pink lips and jeans so tight they look glued on. And now that Lanie took her jacket he can see straight down her—

Oh. Lanie.

He manages to tear his eyes away from Kate's chest long enough to scan the room for her, finds her sitting perched on a bar stool, smirking in his direction.

She looks knowing. She looks like she _knows_. Shit. And if there was any doubt left in her mind, the way Kate just greeted him with her, um, mouth probably answered any lingering questions.

His breath snags, his chest tightening with panic. He takes a step away from Kate, releasing his grip on her, but she stumbles almost immediately without the support so he gives up and grabs her again, pulls her close.

She sinks into his chest with a happy sigh, her fingers coming up to curl around the lapel of his coat. "Mm, Castle," she murmurs, her voice soft and husky.

He smiles down at her, can't help it. Presses a soft kiss to her forehead, not caring that Lanie's probably watching. No point in hiding it now.

"Let's go talk to, Lanie," he says softly, lifting her a little, helping her shift her weight back onto her own two feet.

"Oh, Lanie," she agrees, turning and leaning into his side as they make their way to the bar.

The ME lifts an amused eyebrow at Castle when he stops in front of her, picking up her martini and sipping delicately. "Have a nice girls' night?" he asks.

"It was very…informative," Lanie says, smiling around the rim of her glass as she takes another sip.

"I'll bet," he says dryly. He glances down at Kate who is all but passed out against him, her face pressed into his neck. "How did she end up this drunk?"

Lanie shrugs demurely. "We were having a good time."

Castle lets out a long, resigned breath. "She tell you?"

"She told me," she confirms, looking pleased with herself.

Castle feels a sudden flare of anger in his chest at the look, because this is bad, really bad. If Gates finds out—

But then Lanie grins at him, wide and genuine, her eyes shiny with tears and the anger fades as quickly as it came. She won't say anything. He can trust her. She's happy for them. Happy for her friend.

"Congratulations, Castle," she says, her voice soft. Her eyes drift to Kate's face, her closed eyes, slightly parted lips, her hand curled around the fabric of his shirt, hanging on. "I've never seen her so happy."

Castle feels his chest warm at the words. He presses his lips to the top of Kate's head, soft, adoring, reverent, letting Lanie see it, wanting her to see it, because he doesn't have to hide it anymore.

He's so in love.

Lanie smiles at him, places her martini glass on the bar, and slips off her stool. She reaches out to squeeze his arm. "You better be good to her," she says.

"I will," he promises. "I will. I love her."

Lanie nods. "I know you do."

She moves past him, leaving him at the bar with Kate. He reaches up, slides his fingers through the soft strands of her hair. Her eyes flutter open, bleary and glassy, clearing a little when they settle on his face.

"We going home?" she asks, snuggling into him, her eyelids slipping shut again.

He's not sure exactly where she means—his apartment or hers—but he knows she won't mind waking up in his bed. "Yup," he says. "Home."

She rouses again at his voice. "You're…" She pauses and he thinks she fell asleep again, but then she lifts her head from his shoulder and looks at him, her eyes surprisingly clear. Sober. "You're wonderful."

He grins, leans in to catch her mouth in a kiss, his tongue skimming the seam of her lips. "You're sappy when you're drunk."

"_You're _sappy when you're drunk," she shoots back, making a face.

He laughs. "Your comebacks also suffer, apparently."

"I can't…think straight," she mutters, slumping into his side as he tries to turn her and maneuver them towards the door.

He half-pushes, half-carries her out of the bar and onto the street. She shivers against him and he wonders what happened to her jacket after Lanie commandeered it. There's no way he's going back inside, so he hopes Lanie grabbed it. If not, he'll just buy her a new one.

He tugs her towards the curb, drawing her around to the front of his body so he can block her from the chilly night air. He calls his driver who's parked a few blocks over, then wraps both arms around Kate.

"Hey, Kate?" he asks.

He's not sure how awake she is, so he's pleasantly surprised when she answers. "Mm, yeah?"

"Did you hear what I…said to Lanie?"

She lets out a breath, shifting against him a little. "Yeah, I did," she admits softly.

He nods slowly, feeling unsure. "So…are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, sounding sleepy. He can tell she's fading again. "Can't say it back yet," she breathes. "But soon. M'kay?"

He smiles, so in love with her he can barely breathe. He wants to say it again, say it over and over, but she's falling asleep in his arms and this is enough. This is plenty. Just this—having her close, tucked against him, making wonderful promise.

He presses his lips to her temple. "Okay."


	7. Sleep

_This "first" was born from my fluffy season 5 feels and my endless daydreams about Castle and Beckett having a baby together. _

—

Castle steps onto the elevator and hits the button for the homicide floor, shifting impatiently as the old elevator begins its slow, lurching ascent.

Kate sent him on a coffee run forty minutes ago. There was a new barista at his favorite coffee place and it took her three tries to make Beckett's skim latte. Ridiculous. He knew she needed the caffeine boost (she cherishes those 300 milligrams a day) and now she's probably in the throws of a splitting headache and he _hates _that.

He steps off the elevator _finally_, and heads over to her desk, only to find her chair empty. He sets the coffee cups down and glances over to Esposito's desk. The detective catches his eye, the unspoken question, and nods towards the break room.

He pushes open the door, steps in, and stops in his tracks. Kate is asleep on the couch, completely dead to the world. She's lying on her side, knees drawn up to her chest. Her mouth is slightly parted, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other resting low on her belly, palm pressed to the small bump.

He grins and moves closer, crouching beside her head. He reaches out, rests his hand over hers on her stomach, before leaning in and pressing his lips to her forehead. "Kate," he murmurs softly.

She stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering. He kisses her cheek, the tip of her nose, and her lips, a soft brush of his mouth over hers. She hums in the back of her throat, draws her hand out from under his to reach for him, fingers curling around his shirt collar.

"Hey," she murmurs, eyes still closed, a soft smile on her lips.

"Hey, back," he says, kissing her again, a little deeper this time, slowly drawing her back to the world.

She sighs again and opens her eyes, shifting a little so that she's lying on her back, her face still tilted towards him. "You have my coffee?" she asks.

He nods. "On your desk. Too little too late, it appears."

"Ugh, Castle, I'm so tired," she mutters, pressing a hand over her eyes.

"I know you are," he says and feels his chest tighten because it's true. It was morning sickness for the first couple months, and then heartburn so bad that she could barely sit up, and now insomnia of all things, making her wired at night and leaving her exhausted during the day.

"I feel like all my wires are mixed up," she says, dropping her hand so she can meet his eye—his beautifully blue, worried eyes.

"Babe, you're creating life," he says, grinning a little, smoothing his large hand across her stomach. "It's normal to feel a little off."

She huffs at him, but the edges of her mouth are quirked upwards. "Don't call me babe. And I just want to sleep."

"Okay," he says simply.

She raises an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

He nods. "Okay. Let's go home."

"Castle, I can't just leave. I have—"

"No active cases and Esposito and Ryan can handle the paperwork for a day."

She frowns at him, but he can tell she's seriously considering. She's stretched thin, beyond tired.

"I…" She pauses, hesitating, eyes conflicted. "I need to check with the guys first."

"I'll do it," Castle offers quickly, standing up. "You wait here."

—

She watches him disappear back out into the bullpen and lets her eyes drift shut again, the sleepiness like a drug that keeps pulling her under. She can't ever remember being this tired. Not at the academy, not as a rookie cop in Vice who frequently spent days walking the streets with barely a catnap in between assignments.

This exhaustion is deep and heavy, throbs in her bones, weights her blood, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't mind for the same reason she didn't mind the morning sickness or the heartburn.

It's their baby. They're having a baby together. What is there to complain about?

She smiles at the thought, drifting in and out, the muffled sounds of the precinct filtering through the haze. She's not sure how long she lies there waiting for him, but then he's back, kissing her again, so sweetly and reverently that she honestly could cry.

She's so tired.

"What did they say?" she asks, blinking up at him.

"They said it's fine," he answers, smiling.

She hums in the back of her throat, a contented sound, and wraps her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close. She presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, fingers sifting through the soft hair at the back of his neck.

"Take me home, Castle."

—

He insists on driving and she happily relinquishes the keys, sliding into the passenger seat with a soft sigh. She leans back against the headrest and closes her eyes, listening as Castle turns on the car and shifts it into gear.

She falls asleep again on the way to the loft and he finds himself grateful, a tension he hadn't been aware of easing in his chest. It hurts him to see her struggle through her days, constantly fighting sleep, and then to lie down beside her at night and watch her eyes droop but never fall, the strange, insomniac buzz rolling off her in waves.

By some miracle he finds a parking spot in front of the apartment building and turns off the car, puts it into park. She stirs when the motion of the car stops, tilting her head towards him and opening her eyes.

"We here?" she asks.

He nods and gets out of the car, walks around to her side and opens the door. She stands up and leans into his body, pressing her cheek against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. "I'm sorry," he says suddenly, arms tightening around her shoulders.

"For what?" she mumbles, feeling herself melt into him, soothed by his smell and his voice and the firm press of his body against hers. She could fall asleep right here.

"I wish it was easier for you," he says, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Don't apologize for that," she says, tilting her head back to meet his eye, her voice fierce. She lifts her hand, presses her fingertips to his jaw. "Don't apologize for anything."

He smiles softly, bowing his head forward to kiss her. "Let's get you into bed."

—

She has never loved this bed so much. She's also pretty sure she's never loved the man lying in it beside her as much as she does right now.

They're lying curled towards each other, eyes open, faces close. "I don't think I've ever seen you fall asleep in the precinct," he says, his voice soft.

"I never have," she tells him. "Not even as a uniform. I prided myself on it."

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he says, grinning.

He can just picture her as a stubborn rookie, running on empty, downing coffee like there's no tomorrow. Headstrong, stubborn—staring down sleep and darkness, never allowing herself the luxury of rest.

"That's when I fell in love with coffee," she admits. "Even that awful precinct stuff. How did you describe it? Monkey pee?"

He smiles at the memory. Reaches out to run his hand along her hip under the covers, her skin warm, her body heavy with sleep. "Like a monkey peed in battery acid," he recalls, his voice soft.

"Mmm," she hums. "What a way with words." Her eyes drift shut again, but she lifts a hand towards him, presses her palm to his chest. "I like your coffee better."

He scoots closer, draping an arm across her waist and tugging her into his body. "Can I hold you?" he whispers, his lips ghosting across her forehead to land briefly at her temple.

"Course," she mumbles. "But can we…"

She trails off and shifts away from him briefly, turning onto her other side so that her back is pressed to his chest. She lets out a happy sigh when he presses close again, resting his hand against her stomach, rubbing slow circles.

"I like it when you do that," she murmurs, resting her hand over his.

He smiles, lips pressed to the curve between her neck and shoulder. "I love you," he says simply, the only thing he can think to say because he's so in love with her, so in love that there aren't any other words left. "Now sleep."


End file.
